On a brisk day in November 1998, a doughy balding Brooklyn computer salesman was supposed to report to prison to begin serving a 17-year sentence. He rented a Ford Taurus. Drove to Queens to turn in the ankle monitor he had been wearing. He took $600 out of an ATM. Headed to JFK airport. And vanished. His name was John Ruffo. The crime he had committed was outlandish. Using for... (展開全部)